


The Staunching Song

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Elrond's first healing, Gen, Healing, Kidnap Dads, Treat Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: When Maedhros is injured while out hunting with the twins, Elrond stays with him while Elros goes for help.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitmo & Maglor | Makalaurë & Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur
Comments: 20
Kudos: 80
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	The Staunching Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/gifts).



> title from the lay of leithian

“ _Atar_!” Elrond gasped as he knelt beside Maedhros on the ground. There was bright blood soaking through the leg of his trousers. There was bright blood spattered on the ground. The hooves of the wild boar that had so nearly hit Elrond head on instead of his father had left grooves in the earth. Maedhros’s shattered spear lay beneath him on the earth.

“Elrond—you’re not hurt?” Maedhros gasped as he rolled up on his elbow.

“N-No. I’m fine. But you’re—you’re bleeding—you’re—”

“Thank Eru,” Maedhros said, and he collapsed.

Elros ran over, the tip of his own spear bloodied. “It’s gone, it’s left,” he said breathlessly. Then he looked down. “What do we do? Elrond, what do we—”

Elrond fought the impulse to say, _I don’t know_ , grinding down on the impulse. There wasn’t time. There was so much blood, and Atar’s leg was turned at a strange angle. “You have to go get Atya,” he said steadily. “Tell him exactly what happened. I’ll stay with Atar. Do you understand?” Nod. “Good. Go.”

As Elros ran off, he cast a single look behind him, and Elrond watched until he was out of sight before turning back to Maedhros. There was too much blood. He had seen blood like this before. He didn’t want to think about it. Would Atar die? Elrond’s breath caught in his throat. He took Maedhros’s large hand and held it tightly. He needed to do _something_.

He thought back to long ago, to a voice he barely remembered. _Do you have a stomachache, little one? Let me sing you a song that my mother sang to me._ It had always made his stomach feel better. He looked down at Maedhros, whose eyes were shut, his face pinched with pain, and the blood all down his leg. How could it do anything for his father? But if he didn’t at least _try_ —“Please, Eru,” Elrond whispered, and then he pressed his hands to Maedhros’s leg and began to sing in a high, thin, quavering voice.

He didn’t remember most of the words, but he remembered the tune, and he forced himself not to think about anything else as he sang. Just the notes, which he needed to get right, and Maedhros, still lying on his back in the leaves and breathing harshly. _Just keep breathing, Atar. Just keep breathing_. And for Elrond, just keep singing.

The world narrowed to just the two of them. Elrond could feel his father’s blood pulsing underneath his hands, and he kept focusing on that, kept focusing on the way it was still flowing. That Maedhros was still breathing was evident from the fluttering of the gold ribbon tied around the stump of his right hand, which he had curled up to his mouth as he fainted.

He didn’t know how long it had been when he heard frantic footsteps behind him and Atya’s voice calling both their names. Maglor knelt beside both of them, taking Maedhros’s hand in his, trembling. He felt his brother’s pulse and then gently touched the injured leg. “What did you do, Elrond?” he asked.

Suddenly dizzy, Elrond sat down, putting his head in his hands. “Need to sleep,” he mumbled. Why was he so tired? 

“Elrond? You’re not hurt, are you?” Maglor’s voice was torn; Elrond couldn’t quite track what was happening, but he heard the sound of tearing cloth.

“He didn’t get hurt,” Elros said. “He just stayed with Atar while I went for you.”

There was the sound of a soft, in-drawn breath. “He’s closed the injury,” Maglor said, his voice sounding thick. “It’s not expert, and he’ll need the healers to look at him when we get him back home, but he—” Strong arms gathered Elrond up, and Atya was holding him close. “Elrond, you brilliant child, you’ve saved Atar’s life this day.” Two little drops of moisture landed on the inside of Elrond’s elbow.

“Atar’s all right?” he mumbled.

“Yes, he’ll be fine. You’ve the makings of a fine healer,” Atya told him. “I’m going to see about getting you trained right away. As soon as we’ve gotten Maedhros back and comfortable, all right?”

“I helped,” mumbled Elrond. He was so tired, but he’d _helped_. He’d kept Atar alive.

He hadn’t lost another parent.


End file.
